


The Final Girl

by SherryBaby14



Series: Tumblr Marvel One Shots [30]
Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, Death, F/M, Friday the 13th AU, Killer AU, Slasher, Smut, horror movie au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21780247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherryBaby14/pseuds/SherryBaby14
Summary: Slasher AU!  You need to outsmart the killer and stay alive.  Will you be the final girl?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Tumblr Marvel One Shots [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/812748
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83





	The Final Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Friday the 13th!

The branches whipped across your cheek as you ran through the forest. Your lungs burned as you pushed yourself into the darkness. Feet crunching broken twigs and rocks. If you survived you would never take shoes for granted again.

You bit back the sob. Trying to focus on the woods. A simple camping trip. It sounded good. How did it end up in a blood bath? All of your companions dead, slaughtered by the masked stranger. Images of their corpses, the sounds of the slicing made you want to cry and puke. 

You had been next on the chopping block, but broken free. Whoever the killer was he was fast and strong. There would be no beating him so you took off running. 

There was no sense of safety. He was behind you. Close. A few times you swore you felt his fingertips on your shoulder, but you didn’t dare turn to look or else risk running straight into a tree. 

WHOOSH! An extra force came, pummeling you forward. You smacked into the forest floor and skidded on the ground adding more scrapes and bruises to your collection. Your body collided with an oak, sending pain through your hip. 

Before you had time to respond a hand was on your shoulder, yanking you to your bloodied feet. The killer had you. You were no longer the final girl, just the final victim. He was going to win. 

Moonlight shown off the hockey mask. He moved his hand to your throat, his fingers big and powerful squeezing down. 

He raised his other hand, knife primed to stab into your flesh.

“NO!” You brought up a foot and kicked out as hard as you could, nailing him between the legs. 

His grip loosened, but not enough for you to make an escape. It set his aim off, but the knife came down, slicing across the top of your arm. Hardly a death blow. 

“Fuck!” You winced. “That HURT!”

You brought your fist back and slammed it into his face. The mask hurting your hand more than damaging him. But the exchange of events was enough to throw him off guard as he dropped his hand from your neck. 

Not was your time to run again. You turned and made it three steps before his fist was in your hair, pulling you backward. 

“Fuck off you fucking coward!” You reached up to grab his wrist, trying to put some of the pressure off of your scalp. 

He had you. There was no escape, but you were not about to go down begging. You were better than that. You heard all the cries and please from your friends. Those would not be your final words.

“You’re a garbage piece of trash.” A squeal left your lips as he dropped his hand from your hair.

Your scalp throbbed, but the second you hit the ground his arms were on you, hoisting you in the air and over his shoulder.

Your head hung down as you beat into his back, swearing and cursing at him as he ran through the forest like you weighed nothing.

“JUST KILL ME AND GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY ASSHOLE!” You shrieked among the trees. 

It was a safe assumption he was taking you back to the campsite. Wanting to slaughter you with the rest of what remained of your friends. You were shocked when he slowed and you heard a door opening. 

A light flipped on and you were inside a small cabin. He dropped you on the floor like you were a sack. You clutched your side and winced in pain. He slammed the door behind you and clicked a lock shut, removing the key. 

You glanced around the room. It looked like a crazy person lived here. Knives and axes hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered in old newspapers. There was a dresser with strange knick knacks on it. The only normal piece of furniture was the twin sized bed. It was unmade, and almost looked too small for the large man. 

You were shaking, trying to take everything in as you sat up. Could you reach and grab one of the knives? He would be faster. There had to be a way out. 

The killer set the key on top of the dresser and walked over to a full length mirror in the corner. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Your voice cut the air. 

No response. 

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” Your strength was fading. 

You looked at the slice to your arm. It was deep. Mud and blood mixed together to look like a strange tattoo sleeve. Your feet were in no better shape. Thorns, and dirt embedded in your skin. 

You couldn’t focus on the pain. You needed a plan. Something. As you scanned the room a headline caught your eye: STEVE ROGERS ESCAPES! Your heart stopped. WHERE IS STEVE ROGERS? Your eyes scanned further. Every article was about him. 

“You’re Steve Rogers.” You’d heard myths over the years. 

The one-time hero turned madman. He escaped a maximum security facility, killing 32 on his way out. No cage could hold him. 

“You were a war hero.” You gulped. “You saved the day! You don’t want to kill me.” 

He turned away from the mirror, mask still on and tilted his head. He picked up the machete and started toward you, waving it high in the mirror. 

Your gut told you to cower and beg, but you made a promise to yourself. If this was your demise you were going out strong. 

“Now you’re nothing but a coward. Do your worst you piece of shit.” You popped up to your feet, ready to fight when he lowered his weapon. 

His head went straight and he returned to the mirror. Shit. He liked it when you yelled at him. It was the one thing none of your friends had done. 

No begging. No whimpering. 

“Why? Why did you kill all those people?” You folded your arms and straightened your neck. “Answer me. NOW.”

His hands went to the mask and he slid it off. You caught the reflection in the mirror and had to stifle yourself. Shocked at how good looking the crazed killer was. Almost as if he hadn’t aged a day. 

He turned to face you, again without answering.

“Are you going to kill me?” Your eyes narrowed on him. 

“Eventually.” He set the machete down. 

His eyes were on you, studying for a reaction. But you didn’t show any fear. That is what would lead to your downfall. You needed to control this situation. 

“So what…you thought you would have fun with me?” The sound of your blood hitting the floor echoed across the cabin. “Torture me? Rape me?” 

The fire in his eyes ignited and his jaw clenched. That was the wrong move. You could see him thinking it was a bad idea keeping you alive already. He went for the knife again. 

“Because you can’t.” You took a step closer to him, moving your hips in a sultry way. Taking drama had finally paid off as you hid your terror to reach out and touch his face. “Not when I’m willing. I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a woman?” 

He let out a grunt. You didn’t understand how you were doing this without throwing up. Call it a will to live, but you ran your hand down his chin. Trying your hardest not to look at the knives within your grasp. You had to play this safe. Wait until he was really distracted. 

“It’s been a long time for me too.” You pressed your forehead to the killers. “Especially with a big strong man like you. Now get on the bed.” 

You raised your leg and pressed your thigh to his cock. He was hard as a rock. You bit back the whimper and tears that wanted to come forward. 

Instead of listening to you he grabbed the back of your hair and pulled your head to his. Slamming his lips to yours. His eyes were closed and you glanced at the machete. You reached out for it, but at the exact moment, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. 

You knew he didn’t want a fight, the way he freaked at you mentioning rape. So even though your insides were crawling and you wanted nothing more than to shove him away you returned his kiss. Even letting out little moans as he laid you down. 

His body went on top of yours, but he pawed at your clothing. With the weight of him, you were still able to shimmy out of your shorts while he clawed at your top. You could do this, sex with a killer if it meant survival. 

A rough hand found your fold and started to poke and prod at you. His thumb pressed against your clit and you bit Steve’s lip. He let out a wince as he dragged his mouth away from yours. 

He glared down at you. A slight black eye forming from where you bunched him and red blood on his lip from the bite. His hand still working you. He wanted a reaction. It was hard to tell which one. No begging. No pleading. 

“Fuck me.” You narrowed your eyes. “Now.”

There was another flare of rush and you pulled his head back down. This time to your neck. He started to kiss and bite at it, but his hands went to his pants as he pushed the mover his hips. 

His cock smacked against you, but you tried to ignore it as you scanned the room for a weapon. There were several knives hanging above you. Of course, he slept under weapons that could fall and kill him.

You reached an arm up, but they were way too far. In your attempt at a weapon, you missed the start and moaned as your back arched. It felt like Steve was well endowed. His hand movements had given you some slickness, but not enough to accommodate him. 

You tried to relax, not wanting him to rip you into two. He dragged his head up from your neck and glared down at you again. The second you broke you were dead. He was looking for weakness. You would show him none. 

SLAP! Right across the cheek. His head twisted to the side as your palm print started to show. 

“Get to work.” You grabbed his chin. 

Excitement was plastered all over him. You wanted to gag and cringe but instead tried to give him lust-filled eyes. And to your horror, he did exactly as was told. 

Steve began slamming into you, grinding his pelvis down on your clit. Fuck it felt good. The throb in your feet and bleeding arm started to mix in there too. You tried to ignore it, tell your brain to look elsewhere. Think of an escape. 

Then he brought his thumb to your mouth and pressed it to your lips. It was dirty, dried blood and mud. But you parted your lips and tasted the copper and earth, swirling your tongue around the digit as he continued to rail you, sometimes stopping to grind against you.

You felt shame grow with the coil. You were going to cum, from a madman who just murdered all of your friends. In a dirty cabin with knives hanging above your head. 

“Fuck.” You tried to slink into the mattress, get away from him, from this. 

But then you caught sight of his eyes and realized it was orgasm or death. You would take the orgasm. So you flexed your hips up to greet him. Brought your hands to his wrist and sucked on his thumb like it was a lollipop. 

The anger left and he picked up the pace. Grinding, fucking, sucking. The spring-wound tighter. Tighter. Tighter. 

A moan left your mouth as you came undone underneath him. The mix of adrenaline, terror, bravery, pain, and pleasure all forming one giant ball of release. It felt like every emotion flooded your body and evaporated at the same time. 

Toes curled, vision swirling. It was rapture. You took a moment for your head to come back down. You could be disgusted with yourself, but right now you were alive and you needed to be that way. 

You pressed your hand to Steve’s shoulder and started to roll him. He narrowed at you again. 

“I know you’re not finished.” You weren’t trying to shove him off. You put more pressure and moved with him. “My turn to be on top.” 

His eyes softened. He liked the idea. 

His hands went to your hips as you straddled him. He dug his fingertips in and you started to roll your hips and bounce. Steve’s eyes were on your face. You couldn’t reach up for the knife.

You needed him to shut his eyes. Look away. 

That was motivation enough. You went to town, clenching your thighs as you bobbed your body, using muscles you didn’t even know existed. Squeezing yourself around him as you took him deeper, harder, faster.

His breathing increased. You needed something to send him over the edge, but not too bad he would switch positions. Then it came to you. His infamous catchphrase. 

“I could do this all day.” You clenched down. 

His eyes went wide with shock, but it worked. You felt him harden inside you, going into his own orgasm. 

You had seconds to react. His head fell backward eyes shut. You left up and grabbed one of the knives yanking it down as you dropped to your knees. Plunging it straight into his chest. 

His face twisted in shock and dismay as you stood up from the bed and backed away. Blood started to pool from his mouth as his stickiness dripped down your thigh. 

“Die you fucking psycho.” You spit at him. 

It appeared he was on his way. You fell against the wall, breathing heavily. The final girl.


End file.
